“A little respect would go a long way,” Lisa replied.
“I respect you!” Jen retorted.
“You don’t really,” Lisa argued. “You love me because I’m your sister, but if you met me in a social context, we’d never end up as friends. You think I’m an idiot for not having gone to school, and you look down on the jobs I do to keep body and soul together while I write.”
“I might make different choices in your shoes—” Jen said cautiously.
“No, it’s more than that,” Lisa replied. “You think I’m beneath you.”
“I think you’re five years younger,” Jen qualified.
“We’re both grown women,” Lisa replied. “Five years doesn’t make that big of a difference. So you’re right—Mom and Dad aren’t here anymore to help us make up, but I’m also really tired of your condescension. I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m just pointing it out. You’re looking down on me for not having as much, but you’re spending your ex-husband’s money.”
“Is this about me buying the mansion?” Jen asked.
“No.”
“Are you sure?” Jen met her gaze. “Because Nick mentioned that you were talking about it—”
“Ah.” Lisa nodded. “Right. So why exactly are you and Nick discussing me?”
“He put it together that you’re my sister,” Jen replied. “And he mentioned that you had talked about the mansion, too. So I’m asking you straight—are you mad that I bought it?”
“I was the one who told you about it,” Lisa said. “You only knew about the lodge’s renovations and all that because I was working there. You left Mountain Springs for your own posh new life, and then you come back and nab the most sought-after property here?”
“Were you thinking of trying to buy it?” Jen asked. With those bills she’d seen, she hardly thought so.
“I had no hope of buying it, but if I had a little more money saved up—” Lisa’s face pinked. “You know what? Whatever! You swooped in and bought it without a second thought. With Sam’s money.”
“That’s my divorce settlement money,” Jen said. “I deserved that money. I spent fourteen years helping him.”
“Yeah. I know.”
It felt like the old arguments all over again—even when they were agreeing, it was from opposite sides. Lisa had always been touchy, in Jen’s opinion, at least. Lisa refused to take any advice—from their parents when they were alive, or from Jen. Their mother might have been able to get them to talk to each other again, but Lisa had always taken her own path, mostly just for the sake of exasperating her family. There had been plenty of phone calls from Mom asking Jen to see if she could get through to her younger sister, too, that Lisa wasn’t aware of. But then there was the car accident that killed their parents, and Jen and Lisa were left alone...or parentless, at least. Jen had been married and had Drew already, and Lisa had a boyfriend of some sort at the time.
“Is this because of what I said about a creative writing degree? That’s just me believing in you—”
“That’s you trying to ‘improve’ me,” Lisa said. “I’m thirty-three years old. I’ve got my own way to do things, and I don’t want meddling in my life any more than you want it in yours.”
Jen nodded. “Okay. Point taken.”
“I’m not your problem to fix,” Lisa said.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll cut it out,” Jen replied, forcing what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
“Okay.” Lisa nodded. “Thanks for coming.”
Jen sighed. Did every visit with her sister have to be so intense? Jen made a kissing face and squeezed Bram’s cheeks, then headed out through the snow back to her car. Jen couldn’t help but think that her sister, for all of her declarations of being just fine, did need help. It appeared that her finances were in trouble, and she was raising a toddler on her own. The boyfriend had left her before Bram’s birth, and he’d never pitched in a cent that Jen knew of. If Jen had her way, she’d have Lisa sue the cad for child support, and get her sister back into school. Lisa’s housekeeping job paid pretty well, but if those past-due notices were any indication, Lisa wasn’t managing her finances very well. Lisa might not like it, but she was still Jen’s little sister. It was hard to stop wanting to rescue her or offer advice.
When Jen got home, she texted Drew to say hi, and she didn’t get an immediate response. She missed him. He might think of himself as so very grown up, but he was still a kid, and she still worried when he wasn’t with her. This sharing custody was going to take some adjustment for her.
The sun sank behind the mountains early at this time of year, and Jen flicked on the lights, including the chandelier that hung over that mammoth table. Bright warmth sparkled through the crystals, casting fragments of light around the room, and Jen froze, watching the transformation around her.
Once upon a time, this was an elegant dining room with maids to maintain it, and a family to appreciate it, and it was like the ghost of the house was shining through those crystals... The long table was shrouded in sheets, and Jen pulled them off in a puff of dust to reveal the luxurious wood beneath. It could use a polish, and there were a few obvious marks in the surface of the table, but it was still an extraordinary piece of furniture.
This dining room was so lovely, it made Jen want at least one room in this place to feel beautiful and Christmassy. So she set to cleaning up, gathering the sheets in a bundle and collecting some miscellaneous cleaning supplies that looked at least a decade old that had been left in corners and in one ratty cardboard box. At some point someone else had had a similar idea, she mused.
When she’d collected all the leftover odds and ends that could go into the trash, she headed for the front door. She pulled on her coat and stepped into her boots, then went to toss it into the garbage bins at the side of the house.
It was a long walk around the house through the brisk, cold air as she headed toward the covered car park. There would have been a time when the car park was used for guests arriving for a party, and now it simply held the garbage and recycling bins. However, when this old mansion became an art gallery, there would be events again—art shows, maybe even a few weddings or engagement parties... The thought gave her a thrill.
The sun had set, and streetlights illuminated the road, leaving most of the yard in cozy dusk. Jen scanned the front yard. The house was situated quite close to the street, and across from her was Nick’s house—a two-story older home that had been renovated and brought back to life. There was a sweeping veranda around the front, and warm light shone from the downstairs window. A light upstairs flicked on, but when she saw Nick come outside with his dog, she could only assume it was his daughter upstairs.
Or a girlfriend? She blushed. She shouldn’t be wondering about his relationship status. He was divorced—that was all she really knew for sure. And the rest wasn’t her business. Lisa might know, but she didn’t dare ask her sister. Lisa would just assume the worst—that Jen was latching on to some unsuspecting man to make her own life easier.
The dog was on a leash, and Nick came down his driveway at a leisurely pace, the dog trotting at his side. He wore a gray winter jacket, open at the neck, and no hat. He had a certain, confident saunter that drew her gaze, and she felt a rush of annoyance. She’d hired this man to do the work on her new house, and now all she could think about was her sister’s opinion of her. Nick was Lisa’s friend, and Jen was the one coming back onto Lisa’s turf... She was about to turn back to the house when Nick waved. She had an excuse now that he’d been the one to wave, she realized, and she angled her steps across the snowy yard, stopping to lean against the stone gate post that loomed next to the driveway. The fence was long gone, and had been since her childhood, but this cement, lion-topped post remained from days gone by.
Nick crossed the road and gave her an easy smile. “It’s a nice night.”
“It is
,” she agreed, and she bent down to pet the dog that was wagging her tail, hopeful for attention. “What’s her name?”
“This is Goldie.”
“She’s beautiful,” Jen said, smoothing her hand over the warm, silky head, then straightened. “Did your daughter arrive?”
“Yeah, she’s inside.” He glanced in that direction, and she saw the confidence in his expression falter. “She’s talking to her mother on the phone, so I figured I’d give her some privacy.”
“You’re hiding, then?” she teased.
“Pretty much.” A smile tickled his lips. “What are you doing out here?”
“Dumping trash.” She shrugged. “I’m clearing out the dining room.”
“I noticed that room. It’s gorgeous,” he said.
“Yeah...”
“Has Lisa come by to see it yet?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nope. That’s still complicated.”
Nick smiled faintly. “I’d be crazy to get involved in that.”
Jen laughed. “Probably. I was actually thinking about my son. I wonder if Drew is going to see the same thing I do when I look at it with the chandelier lit... I grew up much differently than Drew has.”
He met her gaze. “I grew up pretty far from the likes of this, too.”
“Where?” she asked.
“On a little acreage outside of town—a two-bedroom farmhouse with a chicken coop out back, and a few horses.”
“That sounds really nice, actually.” And it made her feel a little over-the-top to be trying to give her son a life in an old mansion when she could have chosen something more down-to-earth.
“It was a good way to grow up,” he agreed. “But we didn’t have a lot of extras. We only came to town for church, school and groceries.” He smiled wistfully. “Swore I’d give my own kid more than I had...and I’m not sure it did her any good.”
“Is it not going so well?” she asked.
“Oh...as good as it ever does. Her mom—my ex—is a criminal defense lawyer in Denver, and she married a guy with family money, so the spoiling isn’t all on me,” he said. “But Amelia doesn’t seem to remember the same stuff I do from when she was growing up.”
“Is that a word to the wise?” Jen asked. “Because Drew doesn’t seem to be appreciating an opportunity to grow up in a gorgeous old house, full of history and character... Twelve-year-old boys seem to have different priorities.”
“I wouldn’t deign to give parenting advice,” Nick said with a chuckle. “But from my experience, you do your best to give them the kind of memories you would have wanted, and they still go their own way. They’re their own people.”
Maybe that was part of what Jen was afraid of. She was doing her best by her son, and it just didn’t seem to be enough.
“Is your daughter more like her mom?” Jen asked.
“She’s a whole lot like her mom,” he replied.
Jen’s phone pinged, and she looked down to see a reply text from Drew.
Watching a movie.
“I texted him about an hour ago—saying I miss him and I hope he’s having fun, and this is what I get back.” She held her phone up to show Nick, and he squinted at the screen, then chuckled.
“First Christmas without him?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah...and he’s adjusting better than I am.”
“Sucks being the one on the outside, especially at Christmas,” Nick said.
“Yeah.” She sucked in a breath. “But January will be here before we know it, and I’ll get my son to myself for a little while.”
Nick nodded.
“Tell me it’s easier when they’re twenty-three,” Jen said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Wish I could.” He shrugged. “I was a hands-on father when Amelia was little. I did all sorts of stuff with her—went to all her school plays and her piano recitals. I taught her to cook, and to ride a horse.”
“So what happened?” Jen asked.
Nick dropped his gaze, then he glanced up again. “I don’t have family money to give her everything she wants. She’s going to Harvard—paid by her stepdad.”
“That stings, I guess,” she said.
“Yeah... Well, I guess part of me resents that Chris is doing this. Just giving someone something—handing them something they haven’t worked for.”
“A quality education isn’t spoiling,” Jen said.
“She could have gone to the state school,” he said.
“But if her grades were good enough—” Jen countered.
Nick looked at her for a moment, and she could almost see his wheels turning. He was drawing a few conclusions, she could feel it.
“You think I’m a snob,” she said.
“No...”
Didn’t he, though? She could see it in his eyes.
“If you haven’t worked for something, you often don’t appreciate it,” he said.
“Some things can’t be worked for at minimum wage,” she said with a shake of her head. “How could a girl pay for Harvard alone?”
“It’s not Harvard, exactly,” he said. “It’s everything. Travel. Shopping. Clothes. Gadgets. Anything she wanted, she got. And I stand by it—if you don’t work for stuff, you don’t appreciate what you have. My daughter doesn’t halfway appreciate it.”
That was Lisa’s opinion of Jen, too. That she’d married a man with a comfortable life, and she hadn’t earned it. But Nick was talking about his daughter—this wasn’t about her.
Goldie stood up and started pacing in circles, and Nick looked down at his dog with a small smile.
“She wants her walk,” he said.
“Of course...” Jen tugged her coat a little closer around herself. “Thanks for the chat—”
“Unless you wanted to come,” he said.
Jen hesitated, and then glanced back at the house. In her mind, she could see her sister’s judgmental stare, but there was something inviting in Nick’s dark gaze, and Jen found herself returning his smile. Was it so terrible to enjoy a handsome man’s company? It was just a walk.
“I should probably lock the door,” she said.
“Probably,” he agreed. “I’ll wait.”
She felt a little flutter of happiness at that. She was too old to be developing crushes, and she knew it, but Nick Bryant’s easy smile was hard to resist.
* * *
NICK WASN’T SURE why he’d asked her to come along. Standing out in the cold winter night, expecting to have a pleasant, solitary walk like he did every night, it didn’t make sense to complicate it. But maybe he understood the particular brand of loneliness she was feeling—the kind where a parent could feel that confidence and security in that one unquestionable relationship slipping away. Add to that, he didn’t want to be alone with his own regrets just now.
Jen came back from locking the door, tugging a pair of gloves out of the pocket of her red winter coat. A gust of wind ruffled her sandy-blond curls, and his stomach gave a flip. It wasn’t often that a woman made him react like that.
They started walking down the street, Goldie leading the way as she sniffed at the snow and sidewalk. Jen came up to just past his shoulder, and he could smell the faint aroma of her delicate perfume. It vaguely reminded him of Christmas baking—spicy and sweet.
“So what will you do this Christmas?” Nick asked.
“I’m going to survive it,” she said quietly.
Nick turned to look at her more directly. “Are you doing okay?”
“I am...” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all heavy. I meant to give you a polite answer like, Oh, I’m going to try and see more of my sister, and I want to drop in on my uncle Stu and see how he is...”
“I think I prefer the truth,” Nick said.
“Are you sure?” she asked, and he saw a
sad glimmer in her eye. “Because I can be cheery and normal. Faking it might even be good for me.”
“Nah,” he said with a low laugh. “Normal is highly overrated.”
She smiled at that—a more natural one. “If your daughter wasn’t here, what would you be doing for the holidays?”
“I’d be...” He paused, thinking. “I’d be working right until the end on Christmas Eve, and I’d come home to my dog and sit in front of the fireplace. I’d call my daughter, and she’d make stilted conversation with me for a few minutes. And I’d be counting down until the twenty-sixth when everyone’s sky-high emotional expectations were past.”
Jen looked at him in silence.
“That’s the honest answer,” he added. “I can be cheery and normal, too, if you’d rather.”
Jen laughed softly. “Is it weird that the only person I can be honest around right now is my contractor?”
“Yes,” he said. “Incredibly. But you’re not alone. The only person I can be open with is my client.”
“Are you going to tell Lisa what I say?” Jen asked.
He smiled at that. “Nope. Wasn’t planning on it. We aren’t that close.”
“Okay.”
“You two have a lot of tension, huh?” he said.
“You could say that,” she agreed. “We have a lot to work out between us. It’s part of what brought me back.”
Goldie stopped to pee beside a shrub, and they waited under a streetlight while she sniffed around.
“Are you regretting the divorce this Christmas?” he asked her.
Jen shook her head. “No. Samuel and I were very much over. I couldn’t go another year being his disappointment, and I don’t think he wanted to go another year with a wife who was pushing forty.”
“We aren’t all like that,” Nick said. “Personally, I could never date a woman my daughter’s age. Besides, I like a woman who has some life experience to match my own.”
Mountain Mistletoe Christmas Page 6
